Summon (12 page)

Breathing nice and slow, I held out my hands to
calm myself.
Just let it go.
Holding
his gaze, I asked, “You understand the world needs balance?”

“Since a cub my bear felt a disturbance in nature.”

“Cael’s my brother.”

“And he’s a Coven Father,” Baako added without a
hint of judgment, or confusion at the disjointed way I approached an answer. “A
witch. You and Conall are fairy.” He blinked. “At least you
were
fae.”

“My mother fell in love with a human. She was
unfaithful.” Conall would wring my neck if he discovered I shared these
secrets. “Cael’s birth led to the Rupture.” I swallowed the lump of shame
making me want to hide my face. Aloud, the truth sounded bleak. “He kind of,
um, caused it.”

Startled, Baako wiped the emotion from his face and
peered at me, intense, realising the significance of what I said. “How does one
being bring about an apocalypse?”

I poked my chest. “How does a girl avert another?”

Brows lifting, he bobbed his head. “Why?”

“When he explained it sounded compelling, but....”
I cringed. “He craved attention. He wanted acknowledgment by the people who
shunned him. To punish the family that abandoned him.”

“I understand.”

“Oh.”

“Like there’s ever a
good
reason for the end of the world, Twitch. The vampires
everybody’s pissed at?”

“Owe him fealty. He starves them to the brink of
insanity. They’re misguided.” I paused. “And hungry.” I moved closer unsure how
to explain without losing his respect. “We’re all part of a greater fabric
damaged by the Rupture.”

“That’s why you’re destined to fix it.”

I nodded.

He looked over my head, pondered, and then dropped
his gaze to soulfully stare at me. “You died fixing it.
We
damaged it again thinking you needed to come back.”

My voice was puny. “Yes.”

“The others know?”

“Breandan does. Ana will know because of her Sight.
Lochlann will figure it out. I plan to hide on the other side of the Wyld when
he does.”

“I see.” Baako rubbed the nape of his neck in hard,
flurried strokes. “No wonder you weren’t talking.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m as
guilty as the rest, aren’t I?”

“Don’t think of it like that.”

He held up his enormous hands and blew out his
cheeks. “I know enough for now.” He jerked his head. “Go to the witch. I’ll be
here.”

I started up the steps then hesitated. I felt
responsible for his welfare. “You’re okay waiting by yourself? It’s cold out
here.”

His melancholy vanished. Sour faced, Baako went
wall-eyed. “
Seriously
?”

My palms flew up. “Don’t bite my head off.”

I took the stairs two at a time since pissed-off
growling dogged my steps. Again I stopped and looked down. I plucked at the
vines wrapped around my hip.
Itchy.
My lip quivered as a wave of emotion rose.

Anxiety caught me off guard, and everything I
needed to accomplish, including the basic task of finding decent clothes, felt
unachievable.

Hearing my sniffles, Baako inched closer, alarmed.
“Twitch?”

CHAPTER NINE

Rae

Dressed
in the clothes Baako found – after I burst into tears – I felt more
in control.
Amazing how a good cry can
release pressure.
I lifted the thick body of my hair into a twist at the
nape of my neck and stabbed a twig through it, pleased when it sagged, but
held. My fingers smoothed a few unruly strands from my forehead then tucked the
slick ends behind my ear. Hair in my face bothered me, and it grew heavy if I
got flustered. I’d cut it, but I suspected Breandan would be secretly
devastated.

The sleeveless plain-dyed tunic held together at
the sides with leather ties. Ragged cuts at the back allowed my wings to thrust
through. The woven fabric felt coarse rubbing against the base of my pinions,
so I extended them a few times to widen the tear and avoid an uncomfortable
rash. I suspected skyclad was the only state of dress I’d be comfortable
wearing considering my hypersensitive skin.

I tossed the mangy leaves and vines towards the far
corner. They shrivelled and died before hitting the floor.

Ignoring the wooden chair set offside to the stone
fireplace I sank to my knees. The ankle boots Baako found creaked little,
already worn in. The soles moulded to my feet perfectly as I tucked them under
and leaned to the side.

Finally still, the shiver that shook me lingered.
The ominous dread stalking each stolen moment increased in urgency. Grew in
pressure to press on my chest as if a boulder crushed me. Its looming shadow
grew darker as I sank closer to the ground under its weight.

How long
can I procrastinate?
Delaying the
inevitable revelation of truth solved nothing.

Dust motes floated past my eyes. I followed their
idle twirling as my mind skittered to tangled thoughts then shied from raw
emotion I was too naïve, or too afraid to embrace. More than once I choked a
sob and struggled to compose myself. Blessed isolation. Nobody stared. Asked me
questions or demanded attention. There was silence, and comforting pulsations
of magic surrounding me in a gentle drone.

Grateful for the solitude, I basked in the quiet of
the deserted Wyld.

For a time, I even ignored the sudden and erratic
fluctuations in power teasing the boundaries of my mind. The Loa were casting.
Using magics to conjure higher gods knew what. I felt their malevolent
influence poisoning the atmosphere. Each abuse of power was a malignant growth.
A sickness threatening to infect my sanity and plague the people I cared about.

Scrunching my eyes shut, I wished mightily hard
Cael would act smart and run the other direction as they approached.

Tears welled and rolled down my cheek. I laughed
bitterly and patted my forehead with the palm of my hand livid I still cared
after what he’d done.

Following the disturbances would lead me directly
to the Northern City. An urban jungle of deadly vampires Cael controlled with
an iron fist of terror. I’d end up stood in the middle of his twisted Coven
Wyld.

Where else could evil flee?

That was the legacy I was a part of.

The lone member of my family worthy of recognition
was Conall, but even he hid a dark past. His disgust over our mother’s
infidelity fuelled a senseless hatred for Cael. He disowned his youngest
sibling for countless years whilst pinning his hopes of absolution on me.

High gods,
if Cael’s stupid enough to welcome the Loa into his confidence there’s no way
I’ll be able to save him. The others won’t allow me to let him live.

A pitched squeal of defiance erupted from my throat
forcing my eyes open.
This was my
bother’s home. I wouldn’t disturb the quality of peace with my troubled
thoughts. I was determined to enjoy a moment of calm.

Sinking into the tranquillity of my earthy
surroundings, I rubbed a flattened root beneath me. The
natural
rutted striation
s, and knobbly yet smooth texture made the imperfect seem
beautiful.

Imperfect
beauty.

Closing my eyes, I lifted my hands. A pang of
trepidation made me stop, but I pushed on using a memory of Breandan gazing at
me lovingly as encouragement.
I see
nothing but my Rae,
he’d told me.

Starting from my forehead, I traced my face. The
gold circlet remained fused to my skin, the links cold and smooth. I was no
longer the High Priestess, but the old symbol of fairy royalty refused to
renounce me. Down my fingertips trailed. Over my eyes and the bridge of my
nose. I hesitated over a scar above my cheek, streaking towards my temple. The
raised skin felt puckered. Ugly. It made me tremble. I wasn’t vain, never
considered myself particularly pretty especially with Lex for a friend, but I
had pride. These scars were an admission of weakness. They reflected a lack of
ability. Failure. Painful memories set fire to the boundaries of my calm and
caused blackened destruction. My hands found another scar at the curve of my
jaw.

Breandan kissed the scars, stroked them.

Mentally shrugging, I let go of the pain. Accepting
them made them a part of me. Claiming them took away the fear my captors sought
to break me with.

Glamouring them from view did nothing but let the
past fester.

I touched them over and over until the uneven skin
felt familiar. It was my face, and silly to feel afraid of it. The scars were
also signs of victory proclaiming my inner strength and rare capability to
weather a storm.

Breandan loved me as I was. I’d never turn from him
in disgust if he got damaged. The idea I’d abandon him over something as fickle
as physical appearance sickened me.
At
what point did I convince myself he’d do that when his actions have never given
me cause to think so?

My eyes opened, and I smiled. Inner beauty counted,
but being at peace with the outside felt damn good too.

Legs crossed, hands cupping my chin, the rhythmic
sounds of Ana sleeping soothed me. Dawn came and went, but moving seemed
insurmountable. There was so much to do. It made me tired, knowing they
expected me to figure out what the hell we were going to do.

Breandan suffered. Tomas’ phantom lurked in the
shadows. Kalcifer somehow lost half his Pack to the Loa and demanded vengeance.
The raptor Clan forsook us, not that I considered them a great loss. The
Priests refused to broach peace at the urge of Cleric Samuel, a man who’d shown
me kindness and proved that humankind was worth fighting for alongside
demonkind. The goblin Horde never attended the Meet, and their Chief presumed
dead at the hands of Gwendolyn, the vampire Queen Wasp wanted dead to avenge
Devlin. Conall’s burden of guilt grew the longer Cael’s fate remained a mystery
and his malicious attack went unpunished. Byron, Amelia and Nimah’s werelynx
father was dead. Alec was Pride Alpha now, and in love with Maeve. Though I
worried about his future, I felt proud. He’d confessed when we’d met how he
felt about Maeve before she knew he existed. Wonderful in theory, their union
was a nightmare in reality. Dying, I’d thrust the responsibilities of High
Priestess at Maeve thinking her the logical choice. It was huge obligation, and
the Tribe needed her guidance in readjusting to Devlin’s sudden death, and
Lochlann’s accession to power. The High Lord wanted answers from me, as always.
I swear, Lochlann was more stubborn than ever because of his desire for Daphne.
She’d turned his self-righteous preaching on its head. He irritated me, but
we’d made a goodly attempt at peace with each other, and I wanted him happy. If
he’d allow himself to take Daphne as a life mate remained unknown.
Will the Tribe accept a vampire High Lady?

Things could no longer fall as they may. If I had
to moan, nitpick, interfere and made a general nuisance of myself for a life
with Breandan, high gods, I’d be the loudest, nosiest bitch of them all.

First, I needed answers. I needed to
see
what to do.

I possessed more power than before. I felt it
coursing through my veins, simmering my blood. I no longer needed the Source to
channel magics. Like the Loa godlings, I
was
a Source. So was Breandan. Our ascension to divinity was a mistake, a side
effect of the bond tightly linking us.

As I’d crossed into the Otherworld Breandan readily
followed, but with the last of my life I’d pushed him back.

A divine spirit encased in mortal form made a
godling. The celestial essence transformed the corporeal vessel into a being
with profound strength.

How strong I’d become was a mystery. My magics had
been volatile and uncontrollable at the best of times, a failing in me. My lack
of training and reluctance to embrace my purpose hindered my aptitude, limiting
the scope of my power. Now I possessed a better idea of my capabilities. I
wasn’t frightened of what lurked inside me.

A lot hinged on the witch snuggled in the bed, yet,
I hesitated to wake her. We all deserved a measure of peace, even if it only
amounted to some sleep.

Shifting to all fours, I decided to investigate the
lower level of Conall’s dwelling. Who knew when I’d get a chance at a private
exploration of my brother’s inner domain?

“I’d do it again,” Ana croaked.

I quelled a smile at the sound of her voice. Face
stern when my head lifted, I turned on my hunches and pinned her with a fierce
look.

She cracked an eyelid to watch my reaction. The orb
remained solid white, the sparkle I used to see absent. The ritual consumed all
the vitality she’d possessed. She nearly killed herself.

Anger surged within me and my skin lit as if a
candle, flooding the room with energy. My power seeped out in waves of light
and heat that sank into Conall’s home. The walls sprouted leaves and flowers,
grass grew from the floor and moss crept up the bed. Life poured from me and
settled where it could until I dampened my emotions and reeled back the power.